Yesterday was interesting (actually the day I wrote the
previous blog post). I had the entire day to myself to relax and do what I
please, but by the end of the day I was spiritually exhausted – without having
interacted with hardly anyone. Usually before this happens, I have to publicly
screw up a few times.
Tangent – I’m still trying to figure out if I’m introverted
or extraverted. Maybe that would play into this as well.
Since I woke up mid-morning I had to get some chores done,
ate breakfast, went on a run, showered and had the afternoon to relax, read the
Bible, blog. However I’ve learned that it’s never good for me to plan on having
a devotional in Starbucks, because inevitably some loud Portuguese people
(different accents than Brazilians) will Skype their parents next to you.
So I never got around to reading the Bible and as I was
preparing to go out with friends last night, I realized I was absolutely spent.
On nothing. I will mull on spiritual emptiness at a later date.
I was already a bit late to meet my dinner crew and
attempted to convince myself that I would pray as I walked over – immediately
realizing that I was copping out on this relationship-with-Jesus thing. For a
few minutes I attempted to pray, thanking God for something, asking Him for
something… only to stop myself in the split second afterwards having realized
that I’m not actual thankful for that. I don’t actually want that. So the Spirit and I groaned for a little bit. True life: I can’t hold up my end of
a relationship with God without God.
My first beach/I’m-alone-at-dinner read is A Praying Life, which was recommended to me about two years ago and I have only recently
begun, putting prayer closer to the forefront of my mind. Because of this book,
there was one morning on the bus to school when I was trying to pray but
couldn’t focus my thoughts and stay “in conversation” (if that makes sense), so
I repeated the Lord’s prayer in my head. I
got to “give us this day,” and considered saying “me” instead of “us”, but
realized that at any point in the day there are probably plenty of people
saying this prayer across the world, which is awesome.
Option #1: “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin
against us”
Option #2: “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors”
(I just now realized that most translations of the Bible that I use say "debtors," even though I am more accustomed to option #1.)
When open door #2 on this prayer, I here my father (Gary
daddy, not God daddy) singing the phrase, which I believe I’ve only heard on
one occasion in my life.
My reactions to these phrases are so different!!! I have
grown up knowing that “Jesus will forgive my sins” to the point that it feels
like my sins are there just for the sake of His forgiveness… like its His job
to forgive and my job to sin.
Debt feels so different.
Back to yesterday. After my attempt at prayer, I left the
apartment and began walking the couple blocks to dinner, rather lost in thought
and probably not as alert as I ought to have been for nighttime in Rio. I don’t
know if I had asked God to teach me something, but my mind was on this concept
of debt and vaguely on the lack of hatred that I have for my sin.
{Another piece of media that has affected me recently is a
sermon on forgiveness by Tim Keller, the second in a series about how the gospel transforms character. I
have only listened to the first two (while on a 2-day road trip with my dad
from Richmond to Minneapolis), but let me tell you, this one is a doozy. If you
enjoy having the carpet ripped out from under you with love, I highly recommend it. This sermon addresses the debt
between a “servant” (listen to the sermon and you’ll understand the
quotations), his master, and the servant of the “servant.” This debt is clearly
explained as sin between people and God, and between people and other people.}
So as I was walking to dinner, I was thinking about debt.
Then I was hit with this picture:
Back in the dating days of my youth, I went out to dinner
with then-current boyfriend at California Pizza Kitchen. Not super ritzy, not
slouch, just some good food located in the middle of the first indoor mall in the USA. I don’t remember quite how the date went, but it happened to occur
towards the end of our relationship. So here we are – I’m pretty sure we had
ordered a salad and a pizza between the two of us, when the bill comes. Now
boyfriend from the very beginning had been adamant about paying for bills. Before
we were actually dating I felt the need to argue my way to the cash register in
order to assert some independence (which I realize now that time we spent
together “not dating” was just pretending that we were friends – oops tangent).
So given this history, I assume that he will take care of the bill, because
that was how our dates played out. Bill came, and boy didn’t have enough cash
on him. Boy leaves table to walk through mall and look for an ATM, comes back
empty handed. I had not brought any cash and now want to crawl under the table.
 |
| Just discovered that the Edina location closed. I will let my shame die with the wood-burning oven. |
A couple booths over I notice a family friend, the wealthy parent of one of my brother’s best friends. Cue dramatic resolution-in-progress music. Our family was close with his, even spending one vacation together. So I tell boyfriend that I will ask this man to spot us the cash we were lacking (I remember shame-based events in my life pretty well, so I’m pretty certain that all we lacked was $5). First horrible feeling: approach table, call family friend by his first name. Aw dang, cherry on top, I’m not respectful. Second horrible feeling: family friend does not smile. Awwww you’re kidding me. Third horrible feeling: boyfriend is not groveling.
Grovel man, grovel!
I can’t remember if it was before or after lil’ boy and I
broke up when I sent family friend a card with the borrowed cash and a note of
gratitude/apology.
So maybe it is evident enough from this story that I do not
do well with debt; both monetary debt, and debt of inconvenience, reputation, etc.,
to people.
I take my people-pleasing seriously (I say facetiously). I
legitimately look forward to conversations with adult strangers/new
acquaintances, because since I was a child I have enjoyed surprising people
with how matuuuuure I am. One of my earlier memories is making my first grade
teacher laugh during a parent-teacher conference because I said something
thoughtful. And I absolutely take undue pride in this. I love my reputation – I
know that sometimes I can even coast on it and get privileges others would not
get, without having to demonstrate the “character” that I seemed to have proven
previously. (I've been told that I'm hard on myself -- however this blog is a window into my brain. Welcome to the jungle.)
If I enter into debt with a person, ESPECIALLY a person of
influence, I am undone. Absolutely. Undone.
Mortified. Destroyed. Would rather hide and tremble in a
fetal position than face the world.
This is my attitude towards debt between myself and other
people – but my debt towards God? The sin that I commit even in the process of
gaining my “high ground” among others? I treat my sin like Jesus’ privilege to
forgive.
But forgiveness is not just an attitude - not just an
acceptance of the ish that I have
done. Forgiveness of my debt towards God is literally (alright, metaphorically) God picking up the
restaurant tab that I cannot pay for, a tab that faaaar exceeds my ability to
reimburse in a thank-you note and grovel my way to good standing. I can do
nothing to make myself look good to God. My spiritual thank-you notes,
apologies, and $5 bills add up to anthrax mail.
This is what dawned on me on the way to dinner. Then I
walked into a frayed bumper on car and ripped my jeans (don’t worry Mom,
they’re still wearable).
Jesus forgives sin – not by lending a fiver. Not with a sour
face and a sense of disdain towards this little 16 year old girl whose
boyfriend is a total noob (sentiments of the moment). Not someone whose trust
or approval I must earn by placating and groveling and complimenting and
thanking. Jesus saw the un-payable, unforgivable, unsatisfiable debt that I
have incurred both by just being human and by deliberately loving my sin more
than I love Him, and He gave his very life blood so that I could walk out of this
metaphorical California Pizza Kitchen a free woman.
Praise be to the One who has forgiven my debt and given me life.
